Little John Doe
by AAB
Summary: Each agent, each lawyer has a case which haunts him. Harm finds an old file on Mac's desk. This is a sequil to BAby at all costs? so you might want to read that one first.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Not mine, only playing with them._

**Little John Doe  
**

_Monday  
First week of September  
JAC Headquarters  
_"Are you ready to go?" Harm poked his head around the doorpost. Mac looked up.  
"Come in. Yes, almost ready. Just have to select the few files I will need this weekend.  
While she was selecting the files, Harm sat in the visitor's chair and picked up the single one sitting at the corner of her desk. Absent minded he flipped through it.  
"Are you still working on that one?" he asked surprised. "I thought we run out of clues?"  
Mac nodded a bit sadly. "Yes, we did. Plus it's in the hands of the police now. But this is just one of those …"She shrugged helplessly.  
"One of those that keep haunting you," he completed her sentence.  
Mac gave him a grateful smile and brushed his hand in passing by. Her thoughts lingered a moment with the case and with the aftermath for them personally. It had been that case which led her to make the one of the worst mistakes of her life. A mistake that almost had cost her her relation with Harm. She couldn't suppress a smile. Harm. Back then her co-worker, partner and friend. Now her fiancé. Unaware her thumb rubbed her ring. The beautiful ring Harm had presented her with, only weeks before. He had been so cute, almost stuttering and tripping over his words. Offering all he possessed and more. Like he didn't know she needed only one thing: his love.  
In the meantime Harm patiently waited till she was finished.  
"Do you mind I take a look at this?" he asked.  
She raised a brow. "No, be my guest." 

That evening he started reading. It was the case of the little boy, found dead next to the Navy base almost a year ago. Little John Doe. For a moment Harm was tempted to put the file aside. After all, it wasn't a time in his life he liked to think back to. Then he pulled himself together. All had turned out right. Mac was his now; they were engaged to be married. It was time to put this little guy to rest. He deserved it.  
Slowly and meticulously he read. Reports of finding the boy, the coroner's report, forensic reports on the clothing and blanket he had been wrapped in. There were pictures. Harm swallowed. Pictures were always hard to look at, especially when it concerned children.  
He reread the coroner's report. Apparently the boy had been killed by exposure, since no injuries had been found. No sign of asphyxia as well but … Harm's eyes narrowed. There was something odd, something he couldn't pinpoint. Yet. 

Over the next week the case kept spinning in his mind. Harm knew he had been staring at the, well, maybe not _the_ solution but at least some pieces of the puzzle. So that weekend he set himself once more to solve the mystery once more.  
It was late Saturday evening and Mac had gone to bed already. Momentarily distracted Harm furrowed his brows. It was not like her to go to bed early. True, the past weeks had been busy but not enough to warrant the fatigue his tough as nails Marine expressed. Maybe the stress of planning their wedding got the better of her, even though it was still a few months away, in the second week of January. No running tomorrow, he decided; he would let her sleep in. Maybe she was just a bit under the weather.  
He studied the pictures once more. There _was_ something odd. At On the pictures made at the coroner's vague lividity marks were visible on the chest and tummy of the little boy. But when the baby was found, he was wrapped in a blanket, lying on his back. If he had been left to die there, the marks should have been on his back and buttocks.  
Harm rubbed his temples. He thought back to the previous summer. There had been a couple of cases in which the Navy had enlisted the help of a profiler, Arthur Santiago. They had spent a lot of time together and Arthur had given Harm a crash course in profiling and lent him some books. Harm had found it very interesting and useful. In the meantime Arthur had become a friend and they regular spend time together. Being a vegetarian as well, Arthur even seemed to like his meatless meatloaf. This to Mac's abhorrence, who had hoped to see the last of what she once titled as 'toxic waste'.  
Now Harm decided to put his meagre skills to work.  
First he focused on the spot the baby was found. Arthur taught him that alone told a lot about the perpetrator's motives. Since the baby was left next to the base's entrance it was unlikely that the perpetrator had wanted to hide him. There would have been much better places to dispose of a body and although it had been freezing that night, the soil hadn't been frozen yet. A small grave would have been dug easily. Nor did he think the boy had been exposed to make some kind of a statement. If so it should have been in a more displaying way and maybe there would have been more cases. So on the contrary, it looked like he or she had wanted him to be found quickly. Harm checked the report on discovering the body. Indeed, it had been 6.45am when the little corpse was found, the moment the guards did their final rounds before there was the change of guard.  
The next thing was the blanket. Most of the times wrapping a body in a blanket was either to disguise it or express care or a feeling of remorse. Since he already ruled out disguise Harm went for care. After all, what reason could there be to kill a tiny infant and then feel remorseful?  
The little clothes spoke about care as well. Although not new, one or two little rips were mended meticulously. What little the boy had in the way of hair was combed and the boy was washed and was wearing a clean diaper. Not a trace of urine had been found. He had been redressed after death.  
So, care it was!  
Following this line of thought he ruled out murder as well. After all, no evidence of intentional death had been found. Exposed to the cold to kill him? That didn't fit with the care. So his death might have been either unintentional or even natural. For now he went with natural. Wasn't there something ... he turned to the computer. It took only a short search.  
SIDS, sudden infant death syndrome. The syndrome that left babies dead in their crib, unharmed, with no visible cause of death. What if ... what if the baby had died because of SIDS?  
But why … ? Why had his parents or caretakers left him in the woods, to be found and buried by strangers? There must be a reason they could not bury their little son themselves.  
Harm studied the pictures of the little face. It was almost as if the boy was sleeping. He had dark hair and a lightly coloured skin.  
Slowly a hypothesis started to unfold.  
An illegal immigrant family. Maybe from Mexico, El Salvador or Guatemala.  
The woman getting pregnant.  
The fear of going to a regular doctor.  
Giving birth to a baby boy, maybe with the help of a midwife or one of those little 'don't ask, don't tell' clinics.  
The horrible discovery of their precious child, dead in his crib.  
The dilemma. Report the death of their baby would certainly lead to an investigation, followed by deportation to their home country.  
At the same time the parents couldn't bear the thought of just disposing of the body. Their child deserved a proper burial. So they made a tough decision.  
Harm pictured the scene. The mother with tears in her eyes, the father, his face wrecked with grief. Slowly, careful not to make a sound they approached the base. Finding the right spot where their precious cargo would be discovered right away. A last caress, a last tender kiss of goodbye. Then they disappeared into the night.  
At home there were the tears, the vacant room and the empty crib. Probably they had followed the news, bought papers. There had been several broadcasts about the little boy, several articles in the papers, pictures of the funeral.  
Suddenly he grabbed the report again. Yes, the boy was found on October 23rd. With his estimated age no older than five weeks that made his date of birth in the third or fourth week of September. He had to act fast. 

In the morning he set out his hypothesis to Mac. Het showed her the research he had done. Among other things he had found that boys are more vulnerable to SIDS and both letting an infant sleep while lying on the stomach or the side as a too warm a cover increased the risk. Since the boy had lividity marks on his chest and tummy he probably died while sleeping on his stomach. The cold could have lured the parents into covering their baby too well.  
Mac nodded thoughtfully. He could be right. It might solve the mystery how little John Doe had died. But it didn't bring them any closer about who he was.  
"What do you suggest we do now?" she asked.  
Harm had thought about that too. "First I want to invite Arthur," he said. "I want to discuss whether he can back up my presumptions. Then I want to talk to NCIS. To the police this is a cold case now. But still … somehow I feel responsible. After all, he has been left only a few yards from a Navy base. If the boy was born in the third week of September, his first birthday would have been somewhere in the next week or weeks. I bet his parents will want to visit the grave. Maybe we can set up surveillance or at least cameras."  
He reached for the phone. "I'll call Arthur right away." 

_Same evening  
Harm's loft  
_Luckily Arthur had been free and willing to visit them the same day. Harm had invited him for dinner and at 17.45, dinner simmering on the stove, they sat and Harm filled his friend in on the case.  
"Now you know as much as we do," he ended. "After dinner I'll show you the reports. I know it's against regulation to show them to a third party but you have worked with us previously. I don't think it will cause much trouble."  
Arthur nodded." I will have to read the reports for myself but for now your line of thoughts seem very plausible. I suggest we have dinner and then I take an hour or so to read the reports myself. After that we can go over them once again and try to come up with a plan." 

_Monday morning  
NCIS building_  
The phone rang on the desk of senior field agent Tony Dinozzo. Glad with the distraction he answered and moment later he was on his way to reception. He had a visitor.  
Downstairs he shook Harm's hand and asked what he could do. To his surprise Harm pulled an old familiar file out of his briefcase. "I'd like a word about this. Is there a place where we can talk?"  
Tony ushered him to a small conference room and got them both a cup of coffee.  
"You might wonder why I come to you with this file again but I noticed you were the first agent on the scene back then," Harm started. "After that the case was handed to the Washington police."  
"I remember. I take it the case was never closed?"  
"No. All leads led to nothing."  
"And now? Are there new ones?"  
"Not exactly new leads but new insights," Harm told him. "You know, after the case was transferred to the police, JAG wasn't involved anymore either. But initially it was Lt. Colonel MacKenzie who handled the case. It became one of those cases, well you know, that keep haunting you."  
Tony nodded; he had one or two of those in his desk drawer and he was sure his co-workers had, too. All agents had.  
"Last week I spotted the file on her desk and asked whether I could take a look. You have to know, I have a friend, Arthur Santiago. He is a profiler and works with JAG on a regular basis, mostly as an expert witness. He taught me the principles of profiling and I just decided to give it a go. When I came up with a possible scenario I discussed it with him and he agreed."  
Harm went on with explaining and Tony was a good listener. At the end he said "So now you plan to set up surveillance or a camera at the graveyard in the hope the parents show up. And that's what you want our help for."  
Harm nodded; the agent was spot on.  
The agent grabbed his phone. "Let me discuss this with Gibbs," he said and walked out of the room for a moment. Five minutes later he was back.  
"As I suspected we don't have manpower to set up surveillance. Remember, it isn't our case anymore. But we can set up some cameras and if the parents show up Abby will have a look at the pictures. So let's take it from there and decide further when we have something to decide on."  
Harm happily agreed. In fact, it not being their case anymore he already had calculated in the possibility of no help at all.  
"I like the camera's to be placed as soon as possible. Remember, the age of little John Doe is just an estimate. He can be a little bit older or younger."  
"We will do that," Tony promised. 

_Last week of September  
Harm's loft_  
There had been a delivery this morning. A stash of cd-roms had appeared on his desk accompanied with a note from Tony Dinozzo. They held the pictures of the camera surveillance at the cemetery. Harm had considered asking the workers on the cemetery to keep an eye on the grave but had decided against it, afraid too much attention would scare off the parents.  
Mac otherwise occupied Harm decided to run them. He started with the first, of September 14th, and fast forwarded, stopping only once in a while when someone seemed to pay extra attention to the small grave. But those were all passers-by throwing a look. He almost could hear the comments. 'That's that little boy they found dead last year. Poor, kid, no name. He was only weeks old when they found him. They should hang the people responsible.'  
There was no clue in the records of the first day. Nor was there on the second or the third. It was only watching the one of the September 22nd he suddenly sat straight. In the early evening, darkness was already setting in, a man approached the little grave. Het looked around him suspiciously. Then he seemed to say something to a person just out of reach of the camera. Seconds later a young woman appeared, carrying a large bouquet of flowers and a stuffed toy. Carefully she placed both at the grave, resting her hand against the little headstone and bending her head in prayer. The man knelt next to her. After a few moments they both rose and quickly disappeared into the falling night.  
Harm checked his watch. It was too late to go to the cemetery but he would go and collect the flowers and the stuffed animal and dust the headstone first thing in the morning. Maybe they contained fingerprints. 


	2. Chapter 2

_**Part 2  
**_

_Third week of October  
NCIS  
_The six of them sat around a table. Mac, Harm and Tony had been joined by agent LJ. Gibbs, head coroner Dr. Mallard and forensic technician Abby Scutio. They discussed their next steps.  
Dr. Mallard took the floor. "I read the autopsy report and contacted my colleague who conducted the autopsy. I think we can be satisfied to conclude that little John Doe died of SIDS."  
Next it was Abby's turn. She had run the fingerprints found on the cellophane through every database but had come up empty-handed. She also tried to match the faces but failed again. After comparing racial characteristics she thought it most likely the man and woman originated from Mexico.  
Both Abby and Dr. Mallard left the room. Gibbs looked at Harm.  
"What will be the next step?"  
"Let's assume Abby is right and this couple is Mexican. Then the first and second of November will be important holidays. The Feast of the Dead. It's believed that the souls of children come back to earth on the first of November and the second day it's the turn of the adult souls. I think it's a safe bet they will visit the cemetery then. I plan to be there, too."  
Gibbs nodded. "Sounds like a plan but the cemetery has three exits. You will need more people. I'll be there as well."  
"Me too," Tony stepped in. "And McGee said so will he."  
"That makes five of us," Mac stated. "Bud also volunteered so we can have three cars with two persons each. I think it's safe to say they won't turn up before the end of the afternoon. Both for safety reasons as because of that's the normal time to start the celebrations. I think when we set up surveillance from 2 o'clock, to be on the safe side, we have a fair chance to catch them."  
The rest of the logistics was discussed rather quickly.

_Friday, November 1__st__ (Day of the Little Angels)  
Van outside graveyard  
Almost 17.00  
_"Will they be here?" Mac asked to no one in particular. She and Gibbs had been waiting in a darkened van now for almost three hours. They watched the most likely entrance to the cemetery, the one closest to the little grave and the one the couple had used from the previous time. In two other cars Tony was paired up with Bud and Timothy McGee with Harm.  
Suddenly the radio cracked. "They're coming" It was Harm's voice. Mac grabbed her binoculars and Gibbs the camera. Slowly the two people approached, the woman carrying a large basket. At the little grave they crouched. The man took a little broom and started to remove leaves and grass. The woman placed a bouquet of marigolds at the grave, candles and some toys. Next to that a bottle and a saucer with candy were placed.  
The three agents and three lawyers now had left their cars and slowly closed in on the couple. As by agreement they waited and left it to Harm to choose the moment. Which he did when the couple rose and started to walk away.  
"Can I have a word with you?"  
The man paled and the woman started to shake. The man looked around for a way out but seeing the other four men and one woman now surrounding him he realized the futility of the attempt.  
"Yes," he managed to bring out.  
"I think we will be more comfortable somewhere else."  
Meekly the two followed them to the van. Mac, Harm and McGee joined them in the back, leaving it to Bud and Tony to collect the cars.  
Twenty minutes later they were sitting in the same conference room they had been in days before. Gibbs ordered coffee and then it was up to Harm to start the conversation.  
"What are your names?"  
The man looked like he was going to be silent but then thought better of it.  
"We are Javier and Ana Latorro." He swallowed. "And yes, we are the parents of that boy. Our Dante."  
"You are here illegal?" It was a blunt question but Harm didn't see a reason to beat around the bush.  
"Yes. We come from Mexico. From a little village just south of Penjamo. We applied for a green card but we were denied."  
"You are living in Washington now?"  
"Yes."  
"What happened?"  
The woman sobbed. Mac laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. Javier had difficulty to contain his emotions as well.  
"Ana got pregnant. It wasn't supposed to happen but it did. Dante was born September 22nd. The others shared a look. That fitted with the first visit to the grave. Harm had been right.  
"We were so happy with him. He was such a sweet baby. We didn't see anything wrong. But then one morning Ana found him dead in his crib. He was almost five weeks old." He grimaced from grief.  
"Did you notice anything on him the previous evening?"  
"No, nothing. He drank his bottle like always and felt asleep. I fed him at two o clock and everything was normal," Ana declared. "And in the morning …"  
Now Mac stepped in. "Did you have help with the delivering?"  
Ana hesitated. "Yes but … I can't tell you more."  
Mac understood. If it became known a medical worker was helping illegals it could have consequences. "I won't ask names," she ensured.  
"Yes, I went to a small clinic," Ana said. "They provided prenatal care and when I went into labour I went there too. After Dante was born he was checked out and he was fine. Mrs …" She felt silent, then said "Mrs dropped by two days before Dante died and she said nothing was wrong."  
Mac nodded slowly. That fitted the diagnosis of SIDS.  
"Do you know what was wrong?" Ana asked.  
"You know we had to examine him," Mac told her. She didn't dwell on how that examination had taken place. The picture of her baby cut open was something she wanted to spare the mother. "Nothing popped up. We think the cause of death was SIDS."  
"He was sick? We could have done something?" Ana jumped out of her chair. Mac placed her hand on her arm and with soft pressure pushed her down again.  
"Yes and no. SIDS stands for _Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. _It's not a cause; it's a description of what has happened. A baby between the age of three weeks and eighteen months dying unexpectedly. No one sees it coming; there are no signs something is wrong. There are many theories about the cause, the part of the brain regulating the respiration not being full-grown being one of them." There was no sense in telling them a warm environment and the baby sleeping on its tummy might have contributed.  
"Respiration?" Ana frowned.  
"His breathing," Mac explained. "Yes, there was something wrong otherwise your baby hadn't died. But there was no way you could have known. I ... we are sure you did everything to be good parents. We could see straight away Dante was well cared for."  
Both Ana and Javier fought to control their emotions. Silently Gibbs placed a box of tissues next to them and went to order more coffee. He knew what was coming next. Legally he had to hand them over to the police. That meant deportation, without even the possibility to take some of their belongings with them. Was justice done? The little boy had a name, that much was true. That was a pro. But did it outweigh the cons? This case knew only victims.  
When he came back inside again Ana had started to speak once more.  
"It was supposed to say goodbye."  
This caused baffled faces.  
Javier explained. "We were supposed to leave for Los Angelos this weekend. We don't like the climate here and my brother lives in LA. He told me he can arrange jobs and accommodation for us." He went silent and hung his head. That was not going to happen anymore.  
There were looks exchanged between Harm, Mac and Gibbs. Gibbs left. A few minutes later he entered the room again. Silence ruled.  
"What happens next? " Javier finally asked. Ana just let out a suppressed sob.  
"Wwweeelll," Gibbs stretched the word. "Officially it's case of the Washington police. That means we nor JAG has jurisdiction. That means also we have no right to put you in custody. We have to hand over our findings to the police, though. Monday, I think."  
Javier was quick to understand. "That means we can go now?"  
"Yes," Gibbs confirmed.  
Javier turned to his wife. "Come," he urged her. "We have to go." A bit unstably she rose. Before they left the room he shook both Gibbs' and Harm's hand. "You are good men," he declared. "Thank you."  
Gibbs called for someone to lead them out of the building before taking his seat at the table again. "I take it you're okay with this? There is no need in holding them. There are only victims in this case."  
Harm couldn't agree more. "I know we are not supposed to help illegal immigrants but personally I can't condemn people that come here in search of a decent life. I'm fine with it." On the background Mac nodded her agreement as well.  
"Well, this case is closed. As I said, I will take care of the paperwork." He stood and stretched. "Let's call it a day."  
Harm and Mac nodded. They were ready to go home as well. Gibbs escorted them out of the building. He smiled one of his rare smiles.

Harm and Mac drove home in silence. They were each engulfed in their own thoughts. In her apartment Mac announced she was going to take a shower and she liked a hot drink afterwards. Harm smiled; he knew a cue when he heard one.  
Later on the couch he held her close. As he had expected there were tears.  
"I can't imagine in how much pain she must have been loosing her baby. And having to leave it at the side of the road. I can't even bear to think about loosing our baby."  
"Our baby?" Harm didn't believe his ears.  
Mac smiled through her tears.  
"Yes, our baby. I am pregnant."

The end


End file.
